Soul Mates
by Yerron Yerrown
Summary: Characters borrowed from TV series Nashville. Generally follows the development of Juliette's and Avery's relationship as per the series but with more detail and the result of their breakup.


**Soul Mates.**

Characters borrowed from the television series Nashville. This is a work of fiction and generally follows the development of the relationship between Juliette and Avery as per the broadcast series. It fills in a lot of gaps and has an ending that I think would be realistic. It will be over several chapters

The writing follows British spelling and sometimes, terminology, not American.

Chapter 1.

Juliette came off the stage and habitually looked for Avery. He was her psychological support, band leader and lead guitarist. Since they had been together they always analysed each show together. What was good, not so good or areas that needed improvement and since this was only the second night of the tour this show still needed work. She enjoyed these private little sessions, they were her favourite part of touring. Being able to settle back against him with a glass of wine, no interruptions and going over the show. It was like a husband and wife discussing their day. She liked the comparison…Avery Barkley and her married…just imagine… would that be asking too much?

Today he wasn't there and this was a little irritating. She went downstairs to the studio where Avery and Scarlett were working.

"You missed my set," Juliette directed at Avery. Her tone was a little abrupt.

"She was fantastic," Glenn, her manager said, "The best show she's done in quite a while."

"Which you would know," Juliette finished for him, a trifle sarcastically, "If you weren't hearing it through the walls."

"I'm sorry," Avery said, "we're making real progress here and I guess time just got away from me."

"No damage," Juliette said, he could tell she was still not comfortable, "we'll pick it up at tonight's party."

"I thought we might give that a miss," Avery said. "We are on a real roll here and I was hoping we could get this track down tonight."

"I see," Juliette snapped, there was no attempt to hide her abrupt tone. She turned and left, clearly unhappy.

Patience was not a Juliette virtue. Back in her dressing room she let loose at Glenn. The unwritten part of his job description was to tolerate Juliette's rants. "I knew I wasn't going to like this. I said 'no' to the idea first up, but, Rayna begged because the label is in so much trouble. That's not my fault, but no, I have to compromise for the good of the team. What a load of crap. The only way the label can survive is on the back of Rayna's album and this one Avery is making for Scarlett. So, just because my boyfriend is the best producer in Nashville and the label needs his skills to survive, I have to share him with that little mousey ex girlfriend of his. To top it all off, they can't even tell him how much they can pay him, or even if they can pay him at all. How pathetic is that? He's my bandleader, co-song writer and lead guitarist and now I can't even get to see him let alone work with him. This stinks." She snatched a cushion from the couch and hurled it across the room.

"Juliette," Glenn said, "It's only one night. You should not get paranoid over Scarlett. She's just his friend. You know Avery's not interested in her."

"Yeah, well she's interested in him. Have you seen the mooney eyes and the puppy dog looks she gives him?" She pulled a sorrowful face and batted her eyelids in imitation.

This was a battle Glenn knew he was not going to win. He had been here many times before. "Juliette, you know as well as I do that Avery is as completely devoted to you as you are to him. You're getting upset over nothing," he said and walked out the door.

After a few minutes she calmed down. Glenn was right. She sat in a chair and smiled to herself. She never dreamed she could be part of a love like this…deeply in love, her and Avery. "Joined at the soul," he once told her, when they had just finished an amazing session making love and she asked him how he felt.

She had read about love in books but never believed it….complete fiction in her experience. For most of her life men had told her they loved her but they all lied. She had learnt from an early age what men really loved and it wasn't her.

She was only fourteen when it began…learnt from her mother's man friends. It started simply. Touches, just an arm or a hand and it progressed from there. More intimate caresses until he took her to bed. It was painful. She remembered…it always hurt.

Her mother was doped out most of the time. When she did see them she only said, "If you are going to play grown up games baby you will need to be careful." She was put on the pill.

Sex-ed at school taught her about safety. She became very skilled in a variety of ways of using a condom. Her mother told her this was the way to make men like her. She didn't really understand but she did want to be cared for, so she came to accept this as normal.

The reality of her situation was dumped on her when she was seventeen. Her mother was in a screaming argument with her latest man. "Two whores and both are hopeless in bed. God! You pass out halfway through and your useless daughter is like fucking a corpse. I've had enough. I'm out of here," and he was gone.

She always had her music. She practiced Rayna Jaymes' songs almost continuously. "You sing beautifully baby," was her mother's observation in the few times she was in touch with reality. Those times Juliette would sing for her.

Her music was her life. She could let it absorb her. Gone were the realities of the trailer park life. Her imagination flew. Happy songs were best. She could see places in her mind exploding with life and colour. She liked love songs. She imagined they were about her. Even sad songs raised her above the dirt and squalor of her existence. Music was in every fibre of her being.

She met him at a local fair. Glenn Goodman he said his name was. She had entered a talent contest and won. She could barely believe her prize. Twenty dollars…more money than she had ever held in her life. He wanted her to go to Nashville. She had the voice to be successful. He would be her manager and make sure she was well cared for. At last, a chance to escape this trap. Become a singer like Rayna Jaymes. It was the answer to a prayer, a dream come true. Of course she would go. Not even a hesitation.

A contract and permission would need to be signed by her and her mother. That was easy, she just waited until her mother was out of it and told her these papers needed to be signed for school.

Glenn was true to his word. She would sometimes fantasize, if she had really known her father, she expected he would be like Glenn. He organized accommodation with Emily and also employed her as Juliette's personal assistant.

Auditions were set up and Edgehill Republic contracted her as a raw talent. She would need a lot of work and polish but they were prepared to develop her. She spent months learning the skills, Vocal development, Stage presentation, Personal management, Choreography, Public relations, all the tricks a performer needs.

After six months she recorded a single. Within days it hit number one. Over the next few months this was followed by two more singles and they each reached number one. Then she released a number one album. There was no looking back. She was a sensation with the teenage fans. Talk show interviews, cosmetic endorsements, magazine layouts it was all there. She was a celebrity and Edgehill's number two selling artist.

She was chaperoned at parties, on dates, anywhere she went. She was young and had no option but to follow Edgehill's rules. This changed when she turned twenty one. She was an adult now. She was sick of being "wet-nursed" as she put it. Advice regarding her free time activities was ignored. She welcomed the party scene and soon became an expert…there were a lot of repressed anxieties to release. The drinking started. The men started. Always a celebrity, movie star, recording artist, sports star, always the rich and famous and they all used her. It was the story of her life and now she was getting used to it.

But in the quiet of herself she admitted there was a lonely, hollow place deep inside that nothing seemed to fill. Sometimes, on her own, late at night, she would cry herself to sleep. She still hoped that somewhere, sometime she would meet someone who would care and want her…find her the girl to worth choosing.

She had been nominated for a CMA award. The concert was a huge event on a showboat on the river. This was when disaster descended on her. The man she thought she could really love was cheating on her. Then he cleared out with a half million dollars. To make matters worse she was drowning her sorrows when she had a huge argument with her band-leader, Deacon. He quit, right before she was due to give her performance for the award voting.

"So, what's new?" she asked herself, "Men just aren't in my mix."

She was fairly drunk but she managed to find her road crew. "There is a problem," she addressed the crew. "There are people out there who will be voting. I'm due on stage in five minutes and I'm down a guitarist." She looked over the group. "Anyone?" No reaction just blank stares. "Can anyone here play?" There was a long pause. Then this guy said, "Yeah. I can play."

Her first impression wasn't great. He looked pretty ordinary, besides if he really could play why is he on the road crew? "This is not going to work," she thought. "Damn it! I've got no choice."

"Do you know my stuff?" she asked.

"Been watching it every day."

She wasn't convinced. "OK get him a guitar." Then looking back at the roadie and wagging a finger at him like she was warning a child. "You…whatever your name is…don't screw up."

The performance was outstanding considering she was half drunk, but, she hid it well so no-one was the wiser. Then, this new guy puts a phrase on the end of the song which really highlighted the finish. She was waving to the crowd when this ending stopped her. She half turned her head but did not focus on anything. She was trying to understand what she just heard. She'd witnessed something she had never seen in her life. This guy, using a strange guitar, took over the lead and band leader spots, unrehearsed and on five minutes notice. What he played was different to Deacon but somehow it was better. It was as good as anything her band had done that had been rehearsed for weeks…seemingly, a natural fit for her. She was sure he was a true talent, maybe even some sort of musical freak.

She turned and walked off the stage. When she reached him he stepped towards her. "Thanks for letting me play with you, Miss Barnes." How quaint. He was polite as well. She had not composed herself after the whole experience of her dramas and the show. She couldn't think of a suitable reply. "You weren't half bad," she said but that seemed woefully inadequate. She grabbed a handful of his jacket and kissed him on the cheek. Afterwards she thought, "That will probably be all over the Tabloids tomorrow. To hell with them…who cares?

She had to get outside, away from the crowd. She needed to get wasted, forget her problems for the night. She scored a bottle of Vodka from the bar. "Don't need a glass," she told the barman. "It'll just be a handicap."

That roadie guitarist was sitting at the head of the stairs on the top deck, enjoying the balmy evening. "Well, I could use some company in my misery," she thought. She was getting drunk now. The vodka did not take long to kick in. She went to the stairs to sit next to him but she over-balanced forward. Grabbing her arm he saved her from falling down the stairs. He helped her sit beside him.

"Hey," his greeting was concise. She offered him the bottle.

"No thanks," he said.

"Damn! You won't be much fun if you don't drink with me."

"I'm good." This guy hardly wasted any words.

She took a big drag on the bottle. "Do you believe in fairy tales?" she asked him.

"The kind where the girl becomes a princess?" he asked.

"Yeah and then she gets screwed over by frog after frog after frog."

"I think you might have your fairytales mixed up," he said.

She took another swig. She looked at him in a way that suggested she had come to an understanding. "I think fairytales are just lies we tell ourselves about love and they're all a load of crap." Right then he knew, it couldn't have been plainer if she carried a sign. This was one sad girl and unless he was a poor judge that had been her situation for quite a while. She took another long pull on the bottle.

"OK," he said as he took the half empty bottle and threw it in a trash can.

"Hey! I haven't finished with that." She was really drunk now. Her words were slurring together.

"That's alright," he said. "It'll still be there in the morning. Right now though I think it's time we got you home. Where's your car?" She waved a hand in the general direction of the road.

She was unable to walk. Her only effort could best be described as a collapsing stagger. He took hold of her and she wrapped both arms tightly around his neck. She was very close, pressing herself against him. He part dragged, part staggered, part carried her towards the road. All the way she kept talking to him. "This is cosy." "Don't you think so?" "I really like this." "Have you ever had a big star tell you she likes you?" "I think you're really nice. Did you know that?" At one point they almost fell. "Careful, we nearly fell," she said with a little giggle. "I just thought… you might land on top of me. Wouldn't that be something? That way we could both get into trouble…Naughty, Naughty!" She pressed herself against him even tighter.

They had almost reached the road when a big man met them. "I'm her bodyguard," he said.

"She's had a bit much," Avery informed him.

"No news there," the man said. He introduced himself with a brief nod, "Bo."

Avery returned the gesture, "Avery."

"Ha!" Juliette was still conscious, "Like where they keep birds."

"Not quite," he said. "Let's see if we can get you in the car."

She needed a little manoeuvring but then collapsed back against the seat. Avery was half in the car behind her. "You'll need some water for her," he directed at Bo.

Suddenly, she was upright. She grabbed him for the second time that night. This was not how she grabbed him on the stage. This was with both hands. It was demanding, she wanted to give him a clear message. She kissed him. Not a little cheek peck. This was an expression of a hunger, a need and on the lips. She broke the kiss looked at him and repeated, a second hungry, demanding kiss. "Would you like to come home with me?" She was breathing heavily.

He hesitated. This took him by surprise but he collected himself. He did have moral principles. She was drunk and probably would hate him next day if he took advantage of her. If she was sober…well that could be a different story. But this time….no.

"That would not be a good idea," he said.

"Great," she said collapsing back against the seat again. "I can't even pick up a roadie."

But she thought about him for the whole trip home. She could have given that invitation to a hundred men at that show and ninety nine would take it. She hit Mr. one hundred. He was brilliant with a guitar and was really nice but he didn't want me. I thought he might have. What is it with me? Why does no-one want me?

She got home and Bo tried to help her. "Leave me alone, I can do it myself." She didn't get far. She collapsed on the nearest couch. Her mother came in with a blanket for her. She started to cry. It was all catching up with her.

"Why doesn't anyone want me mama?" That roadie was still on her mind. "Why doesn't anyone care? What's wrong with me?"

"I love you baby. I want you." But her mother knew this wasn't going to be of much help. Juliette had a much deeper pain.

She was coming off the stage from her next show. She half turned. That roadie was removing her headset. He had this grin on his face.

"What are you smirking at?" She fired at him.

"That tune you're humming. You should get it down on paper before you lose it."

She was still a little stung by his rejection after the party. She still remembered that. She had a shot about him bailing on her. He came back with a straight off the shoulder, honest, open answer. It more raised her curiosity than upset her.

"Perhaps he might be amusing to have around for a while," she thought.

"So, do you want to help me get that song down?" Amusing was the right word for him. He just stood there staring with his mouth open. "I'll take that as a yes then," she said and walked away.

A couple of days later they were at her house writing the song.

"So you remember the tune I was working on?" she asked.

"Sure do…sounded like it might make a good love song."

"No! Not a love song. I don't want to write about something I don't believe in."

"You don't believe in love?"

"Let me put it this way. Everyone, in my entire life, who said they loved me lied."

"Well I believe in love. I've been in love."

"Really…and how did that work out for you?" He didn't think she believed him.

"The love part was fine. It was me that screwed it up." He needed a change of subject. "Let's have a look at what you have down on this song so far.

He read the lyrics she gave him. "Did you write these?" he asked.

"Yes…so what?"

"You're a fine lyricist," he said. "We might have to make a couple of small adjustments so we can keep the meter smooth but these are good." He paused and re-read the lyrics. Something was clearly on his mind. He was shaking his head slowly from side to side. "Damn!" It was almost under his breath but she heard him.

"What?"

"Can I ask you a personal question? You don't have to answer but it will help me understand where we are coming from with this."

"OK."

"These lyrics…is this is why you don't believe in love? This is what you feel in your gut, in your heart?"

She paused…considering her answer. "That's about the truth of it. I'm never going to be screwed over again."

He put his elbow on the arm of the couch and rested his chin on his hand. He openly stared at her, saying nothing, deep in thought. He had it worked out back at the party. This is a sad girl. She's got a lot of pain. Her behaviours, drinking, wild parties the flamboyance. It all makes sense. Inside she hurts. Despite all this pain however, there was something in her that touched a chord in him. He didn't expect he'd be around for long but the idea of helping her appealed to him if he got the chance.

"You're starting to make me feel uncomfortable," she said eventually.

"Sorry, just working out where to start and how to take it. Let's get into it."

They were a great fit as a team. He seemed to know exactly what was needed. Change a word here, a word group there. He played each part different ways so she could pick what suited her. Then the parts were joined. Verses, Chorus, Progressions, Harmonies, it was finished. "This is damned good," he said when they had a final run through.

"I love it." She breathed each word individually. "It's far better than I ever imagined it could be. Is there anything you can't do? You play guitar like a genius. Your song writing is brilliant. If I didn't know better I'd swear you were magic. Now that I think about it, maybe you are. I've never seen anyone like you."

He chuckled. "Thank you," he appreciated her appraisal. "Well there it is. The first Juliette Barnes, Avery Barkley co-write."

"This is amazing. We have been through a lot in the last few days and only now I find out your name".

"Pleased to meet you Miss Barnes," he smiled.

"Likewise Mr. Barkley," she returned the smile in kind.

"Avery. This was fantastic. I enjoyed it so much." She didn't stop to think, she just asked him directly. "Would you be available to help with my music on a regular basis?" Revealing emotions…she's not supposed to do that but she had lowered her guard for a second. Now she was nervous, waiting.

There was only the briefest pause. "I think that's a fine idea. You just let me know when you want me."

"That's great! So…now I have another request." This was equally important to her but now she was conscious of herself, tentative. "Will you be my band leader? I would absolutely love it if you would." "Damn! More emotions, I'm like a giddy schoolgirl," she mentally chastised herself.

"The pleasure would be all mine lovely lady," he smiled again.

"Great. I'll get Glenn to sort out a good deal for you. Now, that's enough work what do you prefer red or white wine?"

Avery added a little spark in her life. It wasn't just his skills, she liked him. She found this whole Avery thing a new experience. He was absolutely nothing, in any way, like the male companions she usually associated with. The idea, they were going to see each other from time to time, even if it was confined to work, made her smile.

However, that would have to wait. She had more urgent problems. The guy that took the half million was back again. Apparently he had a sex tape of her and he wanted two million or he would release it. This whole thing made her sick but she wanted it over with minimum publicity so she organized the payment. He failed to turn up to collect. Then he raised his demand to ten million. It was too much. She couldn't raise the money…even cashing out everything for top price would leave her with nothing. She resigned herself that she would be publically humiliated. She made a video for press release, ready for when he decided to broadcast the tape.

When she returned home she walked into a scene of abject horror. The guy who was blackmailing her was dead on the floor. He had been shot, clean through the heart. But the absolute worst was in the living room. Her mother had collapsed across the couch. On the table were broken capsules of drugs. She had clearly overdosed.

This was doubly tragic. Juliette and her mother were growing together. They had been mending differences. Now they could never be fully reconciled. This was straining her capacity to cope. Shaking uncontrollably she cradled her mother in her arms, crying over and over in total anguish, "Mama, Mama, Mama…"

The funeral was a devastating experience for her. She still hadn't accepted what happened. She could not find closure and now she was completely alone.

There were very few people attending and they were all work associates. Strangely, there were no friends. The sad truth is she never had anyone she could call a friend…ever. In fact, the saddest part was, she did not even understand friendship.

People were consoling her when she noticed Avery standing in the background. She went across to him and he took her in his arms. He comforted her and she put her head into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said as he slowly released her. "I didn't realise this was a private affair."

"No…No," she reassured him. "I'm really glad you came. In fact I was wondering if I can ask you for a favour."

"Anything," he said.

"I'm going to sing a tribute to Mama at the Bluebird and I wanted to ask if you would play guitar for me? I really want to do our song."

"Of course I will. It would be an honour."


End file.
